A/N: We love you! ;-)

NeuroticBanana: Howdy folks! Here's a little treat for anyone who's interested in this little story, a second chapter! No this probably won't happen too often, but since we're just getting it started we thought we'd post a second chapter for fun. Hopefully everyone can read and enjoy!

Avogadro602: I just want you to know that in my mind, Leon looks like he did in RE4. None of this scruffy RE6 stuff… Anyway. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: We do not own Resident Evil or any of its affiliated characters or elements

Chapter 2:

Spilled Coffee

The engine was quiet and only the soft sound of rain on the car roof echoed in his ears. His eyes stung from the early morning and the bitter taste of coffee lingered in his mouth. It was dark outside and he could hear traffic in the distance. There was a soft glow from inside the building he was parked in front of, beckoning to him. The clock read 7:47am; he had to get moving. With a soft sigh he opened the car door and exited his vehicle, homemade coffee in hand.

Rain splattered Leon's hair and soaked his leather jacket, marring its sleek appearance ; he'd have to pay extra at the drycleaners next time. Leon briefly glanced at the glass door that awaited him and read with bold white letters U.S. GOVERNMENT AGENCY. Leon opened the door with a jerky motion, inadvertently jostling his coffee and spilling it down the front of his jacket and shirt

"Dammit," Leon muttered as he felt hot coffee seep into his clothes. Well there goes more money to the drycleaners, he thought in frustration as he passed the now wet cup of coffee to his dry hand. Shaking his hand with more force than necessary, Leon continued forward to the main elevators that would take him up to the fifth floor, the Intelligence Unit.

Angrily Leon summoned the elevator and stood waiting, certain that his spilled coffee had every intention of permanently staining his leather jacket. As he stood waiting he sighed in frustration. Nothing had gone right this morning; his alarm clock had gone off late and his shower was unusually cold. Not to mention that he was out of creamer, making his coffee particularly bitter. However, all of that was minor in comparison to the general sense of unease he was feeling.

On that note the elevator finally arrived and Leon readily stepped in, hoping that someone up stairs had Kleenex ready or even a Tide to Go Pen. But the arrival of the elevator did little to settle his nerves. Leon had a strong sense that something was off; something was wrong.

"Why now, Ada? Why do you show up now?" Leon whispered to himself as the elevator chimed and closed. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried to forget last night's events, he couldn't. Ada's words hung heavily in his mind…she had given him a warning but about what? Her appearance at the Annual Governmental Ball had left him with many suspicions. However, it was not just her mysterious presence at the Ball that had him so on edge.

Upon arriving home the previous night, Leon had been highly disturbed to find evidence of a foreign in his home. Conveniently placed in the center of his bed was a small paper airplane. He'd immediately suspected it was Ada's handiwork but hadn't been certain until he had picked it up and studied it closely. Upon examination, it had revealed a bright red lipstick stain; a kiss just for him.

Before he opened it he had quickly searched the rest of his apartment in case she had left any other surprises for him…or in case she had actually hidden herself inside somewhere. The search revealed nothing; everything else was as he'd left it, which unnerved him even more. The fact that this woman seemed to be able to willfully penetrate his private life while only leaving behind evidence she wanted to be found, infuriated and fascinated him. The simple paper airplane—conveniently placed in the center of his bed—was like a love letter from a secret admirer. At the same time, it proved highly disturbing. She entered and exited his life like a passing wind; she was a ghost that only made herself known when she saw fit. For all he know she watched him sleep with a gun pointed to his head; in truth he had no idea when she could be lurking in the shadows, watching him.

When Leon had finally opened the carefully folded paper airplane, he'd been perplexed to see that it was a bank statement—an account summary. As he continued to examine the document he realized that it was a summary of account transfers. Leon paid close attention to the name of the primary account. After a moment of careful reading, Leon had come to a startling realization. The name on the primary account was the U.S. National Security and Affairs Agency—the agency he worked for.

Upon realizing this, Leon paid special attention to the various accounts that money was being transferred to. He only knew so much about the hierarchy of NSAA but did know that they divided in to several branches. Leon worked specifically for Investigative Affairs which focused on the investigation aspect of potential national security threats. The bank statement he was looking at seemed to be a summary of funds transferred to the various branches within the NSAA. As he skimmed through the list of transfers they all seemed appropriate except for one. Near the end of the statement there was a transfer to an unlisted account identified only as ' Account 4877'.The transfer was substantial; nearly two million dollars had been transferred from NSAA to whatever Account 4877 was. None of the other money transfers were that large and as far as Leon knew NSAA had no dealings with private accounts.

The discovery disturbed him; such a large sum of money going to what looked like a private account carried serious implications. The mere fact that it came from Ada meant that it had an alarming meaning; a meaning he wasn't quite sure of. Why did Ada have a bank statement from the mother agency of Investigative Affairs? And better yet, why was she giving it to him? Deep down he knew that Ada rarely acted without purpose; something serious must have been going on if she'd felt the need to reveal this.

After he'd finished reading the statement he'd hidden it away under one of the floor boards and had tried to go to sleep but it had evaded him. He couldn't shake that something was off and Ada's words haunted him as he lay awake in bed.

"You're treading into dangerous waters."

What did she know that he didn't? It didn't help that the memory of her words filled him with a longing that he had been all too familiar with since first meeting her at Raccoon City. The purr of her velvet voice, the silkiness of her bare skin, and the smirk in her dark eyes…he'd tossed and turned most of the night.

The elevator doors finally chimed and opened, pulling Leon away from his dark thoughts. Leon took a deep breath and stepped out of the elevator, back into the real world. Various work stations were scattered about but Leon paid them no attention and quickly made his way to his own cubicle. Unlike many of his coworkers, Leon's workstation had few pictures adorning it. There were no children's drawings tacked on the walls or framed photographs of lovers or a favorite pet; it was simply organized and clean.

Leon stood in front of his workspace, setting his coffee mug down and began peeling off his soiled jacket. He had been so bound and determined to get to his desk that he had completely missed the slumped over Helena who sat in the cubicle near his. Leon slowed in his endeavors to remove his coat as he noticed the hung-over woman and recalled what he'd last seen of Helena. In his foul mood, he'd completely forgotten the fact that Helena and Piers had gotten downright drunk at last night's Ball. A small smile twitched at the corner of Leon's mouth, the first one he'd had all morning.

"So…how are you feeling this morning Helena?" Leon asked making sure to speak slightly louder than necessary.

Helena flinched at the sound of his voice and slowly rose from her slumped position to look at Leon. Her eyes were clearly bloodshot and dark circles that rarely marred her face were evident. She was on the paler side and her usually shiny, well groomed hair looked a little frizzed and frazzled. Well she may be hung over, but at least she doesn't have coffee down the front of her shirt, Leon thought to himself in amusement.

"Good morning Leon," Helena mumbled and cracked a weak smile. "I'm feeling a little…under the weather."

Nodding and trying to hide the smirk that was growing, Leon replied, "That's too bad. Have you seen Piers? I would think he might be a little under the weather too."

As if he'd been waiting the entire time to hear his name mentioned, Piers abruptly walked over to Helena's side with a rather large cup of coffee in hand.

"Yeah, not feeling too hot today; went a little heavy on the tequila last night," Piers admitted and took a sip of the coffee.

"Maybe that's why I'm not a party goer," Leon teased and grabbed a few Kleenex's that he had stashed on his desk. He began vigorously wiping at his stained shirt.

Helena snorted at Leon's remark. "Very funny. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go to the restroom." As Helena rose she finally took notice of Leon's stained pale blue business shirt. She carefully bent over to get under her desk to pull out her purse. After searching in it for a few moments she finally pulled out a Tide-to-Go Pen and tossed it to Leon, saying, "You look like you could use it."

"Thanks," Leon called as he watched her slide past Piers and head toward the bathroom. Leon's gaze gradually shifted from Helena's retreating form to Piers, who seemed to be intently watching her. "I'm guessing you handled the night better than she did," Leon remarked as he began to work on his shirt again.

"I think we might feel about the same," Piers replied while still watching Helena.

"Yeah?"

Piers finally turned away from the direction Helena had gone in, and looked back at Leon. "She just looks a little greener than me, that's all."

Leon chuckled and glanced up from his stained shirt to really examine the young man before him. Piers had a leaner build, not quite as lithe as Leon, but certainly on the leaner side. Leon didn't know Piers all that well; he knew that he had worked extensively with Chris and the BSAA before coming to the NSAA. He'd only met him briefly during that time and it had been a fairly tense situation, not one conducive for getting to know someone. Piers had only been actively working with the NSAA for the last few months and had primarily worked with Helena on orientation materials. Leon thought the two worked pretty well together and felt pleased that Piers seemed to be settling in given his recent history.

Over a year ago in June during the latest Bioterrorist attack Piers had been infected and nearly killed with the C-Virus; he had been prepared to sacrifice his own life to save Chris from certain death. The infection had been extensive, mutating his right arm beyond recognition and extending all the way up his neck and into his eye. Piers was hardly even human anymore but his mind had been untouched by the virus. While infected and a potential liability, he was still Piers Nivans. Chris had seen that and while Piers had almost succeeded in forcing Chris to leave without him, Chris ultimately managed to subdue Piers and they'd both narrowly escaped the underwater facility.

Although Piers had been rescued by Chris, the road to recovery was extensive. A vaccine was engineered using Jake Muellers blood and administered to Piers but the reversal process was lengthy. Piers had spent four months just recovering from the extent of the mutation. He essentially had to relearn how to use his hand and fingers since it had been an amorphous appendage not long before. While the vaccine had reversed the mutation, there were still elements of the transformation lingering in his body. Piers had regained his arm, neck, face, and eye, but he had extensive discoloration along his upper arm and chest. The texture there was different; it wasn't quite normal.

Even after Piers' mutation had been reversed he had to undergo rigorous rehab, physical therapy, and psychological counseling for PTSD. He'd been out for just over a year and had only recently returned. Due to the extent of his leave and the remaining recovery process, Piers had been transferred from the BSAA to the NSAA and paired with Helena. The two seemed to be working well together.

Leon nodded at Piers' response and continued dabbing at his shirt. He was starting to think that this coffee stain was never going to come out.

"So you know Helena pretty well…right?" Piers asked abruptly.

Leon blinked and glanced up from his shirt. "What?"

"You were partners for a while, right? So you must know her pretty well…" Piers rephrased.

"Sure I guess," Leon answered, not following Piers' line of questioning.

Piers nodded in thought and then asked, "So what's her deal?"

Leon stopped dabbing his shirt and raised an eyebrow. "What's her deal?" He repeated.

A sheepish little smile found its way on Piers' pouty lips. "Yeah you know…what's she like to do in her spare time? And I don't know, what kind of food does she like?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure…Helena has always been very professional with me. Outside of work I don't know much about her. I think she might like to read…and she eats regular food…I guess." Leon stammered as he struggled to think what he knew of Helena outside their professional career. He was well versed in the sad story of her sister Debra, but in terms of her personal life he knew very little.

Piers stared at Leon as if in disbelief. "You've spent all this time working with her and you don't know any of that stuff?"

"Not really…" Leon admitted.

"I've been working with her for over two a month and I think I know more about her than you do!" Piers exclaimed.

Leon snorted, "Why ask then? Are you interested in seeing her in a manner that's more than professional?"

"No, no, no I'm just…just trying to get to know my partner from someone who used to be in my shoes…that's all," Piers backpedaled. He then stepped away from Helena's workstation and began to whistle casually; a little too casually.

"Whatever you say buddy," Leon smirked to himself and returned to working on his shirt.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom too…not feeling good and all," Piers murmured and quickly left the area. Leon could only continue to smile.

"Kennedy! In my office now!" A gruff voice called from across the room. Leon turned in that direction and saw the Investigative Affairs Manager, Nick Harrlson, glaring at him.

Sighing Leon put down Helena's Tide to Go Pen and headed in the managers direction. He wasn't sure what Harrlson would want with him this early. Usually they all gathered for a morning briefing and if individual assignments were needed they were assigned later in the day.

Leon stepped into Harrlson's office a few minutes later, shutting the door behind him. Shutting the door was useless however, since the walls were large windows allowing everyone to see in. Harrlson glared up from his desk at Leon; he was notorious for being cranky in the early hours of the day.

"What can I do for you Sir?" Leon asked in as neutral of a tone as he could manage.

Harrlson leaned back in his chair, his generous girth spilling over like a whale coming up for a gulp of air. He eyed Leon carefully for a moment before his gaze turned back to a manila folder on his desk. The chair rocked forward then, Harrlson moving with it. For a moment Leon thought Harrlson would fall forward from the momentum of the chair and knock his head into his ugly mahogany desk, but alas no such luck was had. Harrlson placed his hands on the folder in front of him and pushed it in Leon's direction.

"Got this in my mailbox this morning for you…some kind of specialty assignment from upstairs," Harrlson paused to stroke his white bristly mustache as if in thought, "Bastards think they're such hot shit…but that's beside the point Kennedy. I looked over the assignment and it looks like it's some waste of time research gig. Waste of your skills really," Harrlson mused and then was quiet.

While Harrlson was caught up in his own thoughts, Leon grabbed the folder and flipped it open. He managed to catch sight of a location before Harrlson spoke up again.

"Like I was saying, waste of your skills…but when the cash talks you go where it tells you to. So review the assignment, gather what you need to and then be on your way. Apparently time is essential with this job…damned if I know why, water samples and all…dismissed Kennedy," Harrlson muttered and waved his hand at Leon.

"I'll get right on it Sir," Leon said as he backed out of Harrlson's office.

As he walked back to his desk he glanced at the assignment. Apparently someone in one of the higher up offices wanted him to travel about 75 miles south to Virginia and collect water samples from a rural town. There was no explanation as to what he was looking for, just protocol on how to collect and store the samples. The only other thing that was stressed in the assignment was the time sensitive nature of the mission, but no explanation. As he continued to skim the assignment details one other detail caught his eye: under no circumstances was he to drink any of the local water.

"Odd," Leon murmured to himself as he slapped the folder shut. He needed to do a few things before he headed out, but he couldn't seem to shake the ominous feeling that had started in his gut after reading the peculiar instructions about the water. Once again Ada's cautioning words played through his head.

"You're treading into dangerous waters…"